Her Lover
by Baruma
Summary: She watches, so fragile, wishing, hoping for love. A story in two-parts.
1. Chapter 1

I sit, and watch, and wonder.

How is she so sweet and carefree? How do these hard times not show in worry lines on her smooth face? Her long blond hair billows out behind her as she jogs across the school grounds. Looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks I suppose.

But I wouldn't know. I sit here, lucky to catch sit of her out this wide window I hide in, watching her gaiety; her protuberant grey eyes sparkling and a smile on her pink lips. How I wish to run my finger over them, feel as her little red tongue tentatively flicks against my fingertip. Goosebumps rush down my arms at the thought. She would stand there in shock, I think, staring at me unblinkingly, such an expression of herself. Perhaps, she would smile shyly, kiss my finger, her hand gently touching my arm in acquiescence.

I can't help but be shocked at my brazen thoughts, my laugh quiet but bitter. If I ever found the courage-Gryffindor indeed-to approach her in this way, I am sure she would rebuke me in the harshest manner. And yet, in all my imaginings, I can't seem to put on her face that look of disgust I know would be there. I had never before seen any but carefree complacent smiles or radiantly shining giggles on her face. I can't stand the looks of pain she hides after an extended stay with her housemates. How could they be so cruel?

My hand ran back through my hair, scratching my scalp, fisting in the bushy mass. Outside the window her pert derriere was outlined by the wind in her colorful skirt as she bent over looking intently at something on the ground. Suddenly she dropped on her stomach, knees bent and feet waving gaily in the air. Is she reading a book?

A smile and a wave of affection for the pretty witch grip me. We have more in common than expected, with both our love of learning and knowledge. Only she didn't let it overcome her sense of decorum. Or maybe, she did. Everyone seems to think she is crazy with her accounting of strange magical creatures, but isn't her search but for knowledge. Even I can't begrudge her that.

I can feel the chill October air creeping in through the glass window. She isn't wearing a cloak, the silly chit. She'll catch her death of cold. I can't help myself as a daydream of being rewarded for bringing her wrap cause a smile on my face.

She'll never know of this, of my longing for her. Of how I wish to take her petite hands between mine and pull her close, leaving light feathery kisses across her face, down her neck. Of how my body wishes to press close to hers, feeling our hearts beat wildly in concerto. How I wish to claim her as my own.

She must have felt my eyes boring into her, for she jumped to her feet and turned, looking quite eerily in my direction. I knew she couldn't see me but still I heard my squeak as I fell in a dive off the window ledge, hiding from her penetrating gaze.

Maybe someday, I'll find my courage.

A.N. Part one of two. I was reading a few stories with this pairing, and felt the need to write my own. So, how did I do? ::laughs at self::


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so finally, part two. Sitting in work the other day and suddenly had the inspiration to finish this chapter. (I even ignored work as much as I could to do so...) Haha. Originally, I had planned for something more explicit, but this chapter wrote itself, and I thought the ending sweetly appropriate. I have marked as complete, though sometime in the future I may write a sequel with a little more for all the like minds out there...

Sunni

XXX

Lips, velvety smooth, pressing firmly. Suckling gently, probing, seeking entrance. Smooth fingers stroking through long silken hair. Slender bodies pressing against the other, a coiling heat.

Hermione Granger pulled back, her hands tangled in the long blonde hair of Luna Lovegood, who was staring blankly back, lips slightly parted and swollen. Her eyes widened as she yanked herself backwards, her fingers trying to find purchase and keep them close.

Ignoring the crowd of shocked students standing around them in the Great Hall, Hermione turned and ran, anywhere but there; facing the derision of the girl she loved. Luna also ignored the crowd as an amazed smile crossed her face.

XXX

"Sweet Goddess, what have I done?" All I can do is run away. What the bloody hell is wrong with me? I'm running blindly away, and even though my legs are burning and I can feel a stitch in my side, I can't stop. All I can think about is that blank look on her pretty face turning into disgust, the people around us laughing, and Harry and Ron...

I mean really people, welcome to the real world. This happens in the muggle world all the time, catch up with the times! Then again, my parents wouldn't approve; they are very religious. Things like this-didn't I pass that portrait twice already?-go against their beliefs. But, so does magic.

They pretend they are proud, and maybe they really are a little bit, but I'm like that one child they don't want to talk about. I could have murdered someone, but I'm still their child, so they still love me. They tell people I go to an exclusive boarding school, and though that is all they really can say on the subject, they could at least brag about my grades!

"Shit!" Cramp and a very hard floor. I just want somewhere to hide, my knees and side hurt, and this cold stone floor doesn't help. How strange, what a conveniently placed classroom...

XXX

"Hermione, just because you dated Victor Krum in fourth year does not mean you are experienced!" Lavender nonchalantly flipped her hair over her shoulder as Parvati leaned in closer to her, nodding.

"Being experienced has nothing to do with being in love!" Hermione spluttered, glaring at the duo.

"But experience has everything to do with acting on your love. You have to be brave to subject yourself to the possibility of rejection," Lavender pointed out.

"And nobody ever called Hermione brave!" Ron guffawed while the girls tittered, and even Harry had a slightly guilty smiled on his face.

"I am in the house of the brave-" Hermione started hotly, cut off by Parvati.

"Yeah, but how many boys have you asked out? I mean, really Hermione, you ran off embarrassed last week when Terry Boot asked you to go to Hogsmeade with him, and before that with Ernie Macmillan..."

"Just because I don't like those guys doesn't mean anything!" Her face turned red as they all started laughing again. A trickle of Ravenclaw students began making their way past, amongst them a petite spacey blonde.

"Yeah sure Hermione," Ron howled, elbowing Harry, who was also laughing, albeit quietly.

Just as the blonde was walking past, Hermione stood up, wrapped her arms around her, and snogged her thoroughly in front of the vast majority of Hogwarts students. Bushy brown and silky blonde mixed as their bodies pressed closer, and minute by minute went by.

Suddenly Hermione pulled away horrified and ran out of the room, nearly knocking over a trio of Hufflepuffs that had just walked in. Luna Lovegood, however, just stood there, a brilliant smile shining. Her hands were shaking as they moved up to cover her stomach which was fluttering so badly she felt she may fly away at any moment.

Students around her were staring gobsmacked, an amazed silence clogging the air. But Luna didn't notice, and virtually floated out of the room.

"Bloody hell," as Harry elbowed Ron.

XXX

"I'm pathetic." This classroom was exactly what I needed, a dark depressing hole to cry my heart out and smack myself for being so stupid. Why did I do that? I'm used to being picked on and laughed at about my brain, my looks, and my love life. I wouldn't be in Gryffindor if I wasn't brave.

Oh, but I've wanted to do that... Reminiscing just doesn't do her justice. So sweet, as though she had just eaten a slab of Honeydukes finest. She was thinner than I thought, and her hair softer, I swear she wrapped her arms around me, smiling as she kissed me back.

Just as I was falling into my fantasy, a lithe figure appeared in the doorway, seemingly lit up with a halo, her blonde hair glowing. Sweet Goddess have mercy on me, I can't see her face, and just as I can hear the deep ragged breathing, I realize it's my own.

She's so small, so fragile standing there, and I want to reach out and touch her skin, push the silken strands behind her ear, run my thumb across her velvet lips. I can't help but wonder what sounds she would make as I nibbled on her lip, and as she sighs, I realize I can taste her again, my arm wrapped around her small waist, our bodies pushed together.

"I'm so sorry Luna!" I exclaim, jumping back away from her-did the room just get a little darker? I can hear myself babbling now; I don't even know what I'm saying. I can't seem to stop, and she is just standing there quietly, looking at me. My hands are sweating and the butterflies are spreading, all over my body goosebumps are rising.

"I think, the nargles have caught hold of your tongue." Her voice, serene and relaxing.

"I can help you with that." A whisper, as her body neared mine, her pale hand ghosting across my cheek. Her lips were touching mine, our tongues dancing, and a hot fire building in my core. I can feel her chest rising and brushing against my own as we breathe almost in tandem.

Slowly she pulled away, and asked almost breathlessly, "Did that help? Do I need to try harder?"

"Oh yes." And she smiled brilliantly as she leaned in closer.


End file.
